


Frozen Yogurt

by orphan_account



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, Mercutio being Mercutio, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4505571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too damn hot; Mercutio might be a tease, but Benvolio isn't afraid to tease right back. Written for a Tumblr prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen Yogurt

It was a hot mid-summer day in Verona; the sweltering sun cast a particular sort of lethargic spell over the town below. All around the city, people cast off their heavier clothing in exchange for lighter attire; children dozed, adults were more absentminded than usual, and teenagers shirked their chores and duties entirely to run off towards any cool place of respite they were able to find.

On any other day, Benvolio couldn’t help but muse as he and Mercutio lazed around on the steps outside of the church, the atmosphere would be perfect for a fight to brew. But not today; no blood would be stirred this afternoon, and no blades unsheathed, that he could be sure of. It was just too damned hot.

“It’s just too damned hot,” appropriately vocalized Mercutio fanning himself half-heartedly with one hand as the other cradled a cup of frozen yogurt to his chest. The blond teenager, it seemed, had long since given up on actually eating his frozen treat, and was now just relishing it for the coolness it provided; Benvolio couldn’t help but eye the way the cup was pressed to Mercutio’s tanned, bare chest.

“Why don’t you button up your shirt?” he suggested. Mercutio stared at him as if he’d gone insane.

“Why don’t _you_ pass out from heatstroke?” he suggested flippantly, leaning back against the steps and folding his arms behind his head. “Really, Ben, you’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me.”

Benvolio rolled his eyes; leaning forward to rest his chin on his palms as his elbows balanced precariously on his knees. If he was being honest, he would have liked to unbutton his shirt just as Mercutio had done, but he frankly didn’t have that sort of confidence, and he didn’t want to make a spectacle of himself. Mercutio glanced over at him, and a wry little smirk spread across the other boy’s lips.

“Don’t tell me, Benvolio, that my chest is making you uncomfortable?” 

Benvolio immediately let out a yelp of protest at the accusation; but Mercutio wouldn’t have it. Seeming pleased by this revelation, the blond made a point of puffing out his chest a little more, pushing his shirt aside. “I’d hate to think of you feeling _awkward_.”

The Montague nephew narrowed his eyes, before reaching over and swiftly stealing the spoon straight from the half-melted frozen yogurt balanced on Mercutio’s chest. “Give it a rest,” he instructed blandly, before promptly sticking the spoon in his mouth. Mercutio made a faint noise of protest.

“Hey. That’s mine. Get your own.”

“Why are you so greedy?” Benvolio retorted in reply, smirking at the cool strawberry flavor. “If you didn’t want to share, then you should have gotten one for me too. If you’re hot enough to take your shirt off, you can share with your friends.”

“But I don’t want to share…” Mercutio continued to pout for a few moments before a wicked look suddenly spread across his face once again. Had Benvolio been wiser, he would have been wary; as it was, he just awaited Mercutio’s inevitable antics with a vague sort of interest. 

“Well, if you want a taste that much…”

Without hesitation he stuck his finger into the frozen treat, scooped up a bit, and easily guided it into Benvolio’s mouth. The brunet let out a soft noise of surprise as his mouth closed around Mercutio’s finger, and the prince’s nephew grinned devilishly.

Two could play at that game, Benvolio thought; reaching over, he spooned a bit more yogurt up before leading it straight into Mercutio’s mouth. The blond boy’s lips closed unhesitatingly over the plastic spoon, and his tongue flicked out to lick a stray spot of yogurt from the corner of his mouth. Benvolio found himself strangely fascinated.

“Tastes like you,” Mercutio remarked with a wink, and Benvolio rolled his eyes, stealing the spoon- and the entire yogurt- back for himself once again.

“Well played, Ben,” Mercutio muttered, leaning back again and finally relinquishing ownership of the frozen treat to the Montague’s grateful hands. “Well played, indeed.”


End file.
